Precious
by xseikax
Summary: Nothing is ever simple, and a quest to save the world certainly falls under that category. Random stories of events set during the Elvhen series. Drama/Romance/Adventure/Friendship - all the joys and sorrows of life.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is just a random assortment of scenes based on Eyes of a Stranger. I sometimes come up with an idea, but either I can't fit it in the story, or else I don't want to waste a chapter on what is already becoming a long story. So, those stories will go here. They'll be based on prompts that come from me, or other people. They're not in any sort of chronological order, and I'll do my best to tell you at what point these scenes occur. Also, please forgive any mistakes. I don't have a beta for this._

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><p><em><strong>Prompt<strong>: The Creators; set after chapter 12 during the trip from Lothering to the Circle Tower_

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><p><strong>Myths of the Past<strong>

"Ashara, I've noticed that you keep saying something about the Creators. I…I've been wondering; do you think you could tell me about Them?"

Ashara's head jerked up, and a slow smile spread over her delicate features as she regarded Kali. "You want to learn about the Creators?"

The blonde girl dipped her head shyly. "I just…I've heard you say some of Their names, and I've been curious about them. We still have time before our watch is over, so I thought it would pass the time."

To say that Ashara was eager would be an understatement. She was trained as the First of her Clan; she was raised to teach the _da'len_ about their history and lore. Hearing Kali, who had been raised under _shemlen_ rule in Denerim and knew nothing about the Creators, ask such a question was like sunlight piercing through darkness.

"Well, before I tell you about the Creators, I have to tell you a little bit about who we once were." Ashara settled her skirt around her legs, her face animated. "Once, before the arrival of humans, we were the predominant race across Thedas. We lived where we chose, and made our homes in the thick forests or the open fields, anywhere we found happiness. There were no _shemlen_ to dominate us, no fighting or war."

Kali rested her chin on her hands and sighed wistfully. "It sounds wonderful."

"It was. We were beautiful, eternal, and never-changing." Ashara's violet eyes were lit up with enthusiasm. "In the center of it all was the glorious city of Arlathan. It was a place of knowledge and debate, where the very best of the ancient elves would go to trade wisdom, settle disputes, and worship our Creators."

"Do you know where Arlathan is?" Kali had never heard of such a city.

Ashara shook her head. "No, we don't. From what we've collected over the years, we've determined that it was set in a great forest in the northern part of Thedas. The forest has even been named Arlathan Forest, but we don't know for sure if that's where it was located."

"Wouldn't the city still be there?"

"Unfortunately, no. When the Tevinter Imperium defeated Arlathan, it's said that they used their evil magic to make the ground swallow the entire city." Ashara spread her hands. "But, there's nothing to prove or disprove this."

"That's horrible." Kali shook her head sorrowfully.

"Yes, it is." Ashara was silent for a moment, in honor of their ancestors who gave their lives to protect their home. "It was when we lived in Arlathan that we truly worshipped the Creators. Festivals would last for weeks, and it's said that They would flit through the trees and laugh in the clouds."

Kali couldn't help but smile at the mental image of gods laughing and darting through the forests.

"First, there is Elgar'nan, God of Vengeance, and Father of the Creators. His story begins long ago, when time itself was young, and the only things that existed where the sun and the land. The sun, curious about the land, bowed his head close to her body." Ashara's hands fluttered, bringing to life mythical scenes from long ago. "Elgar'nan was born in the place where they touched. The sun and land loved Elgar'nan greatly, for He was both beautiful and clever. The land, wishing to please her Son, brought forth the great birds and beasts of the sky and forest, and all manner of beautiful green things. Elgar'nan was delighted in His mother's creations, and praised her."

"So the land created the living creatures? Did she create us too?"

Ashara shook her head. "No, the land brought creatures such as we've never seen before. Creatures that we don't even have names for!"

"What happened to them?"

Ashara smiled sadly. "Ah, the sun grew jealous. He begrudged the joy Elgar'nan took from His mother's creations. Out of spite, he shone the full force of his face upon all the creatures that the land had created, and burned everything to ash." She nodded at Kali's gasp. "Yes, he was very bitter. The land cracked and split from pain and sorrow, and cried salted tears for the loss of everything she had wrought. The pool of her tears became the ocean, and the cracks in her body the first rivers and streams."

"Poor thing!" Kali was almost lost in this tale. Between the campfire crackling beside them, and the stillness of the night it almost seemed like she was reliving these tales. Ashara's voice had taken on a melodious tone, and Kali could practically feel pain weeping from the earth.

"Elgar'nan was furious at what his father had done, and swore vengeance. He lifted Himself to the sky and wrestled the sun, determined to defeat him. They fought for an eternity, and eventually the sun began to grow weak, while Elgar'nan's rage was unabated. Eventually Elgar'nan threw the sun from the sky and buried him in a deep abyss created by the land's sorrow." Ashara frowned. "But with the sun gone, the land was covered in darkness." She lifted her hands to the sky, gesturing to the thousands of stars above them. "All that remained of the battle was the sun's lifeblood, which continue to twinkle and shimmer in the darkness to this day, a reminder of the perils of jealousy."

Kali looked at the stars as if she'd never seen them before. She was entranced. "What happened then?"

"Well, Elgar'nan was pleased with Himself, and tried to recreate all that His father had destroyed. He managed to create new creatures to console his mother, but the land knew that without the sun, nothing would grow. She pleaded with Elgar'nan to release His father, but His pride was great, and His vengeance terrible. He refused."

A bright smile broke out on Ashara's features. "It was at this moment that Mythal walked out of the sea created by the land's tears, and onto the land. She approached Elgar'nan and touched His forehead, where His third eye rests." Ashara touched the center of her forehead.

"What's the third eye?"

"It's called the 'eye of wisdom' and is what your spirit uses to see. It is our insight and our intuition. It sees beyond what your physical eyes see."

"So how did that help Elgar'nan?"

Ashara grinned. "At Her touch He grew calm, and saw how His anger had led Him astray. He was humbled, and went to the place where He had trapped His father. Elgar'nan said He would release the sun, if he promised to be gentle, and return to the land each night. The sun, feeling remorse for what he had done, agreed."

Kali was smiling. "So the sun knew he was wrong?"

"Yes, he realized that jealousy had poisoned his mind. So he rose to the sky and shone his golden light on the land. Elgar'nan and Mythal created new creatures to roam the land, and everything grew and thrived. This is when Mythal created the _Elvhen_, for She wanted to populate the land with beings like Herself. She took great joy in all of Her children, and when the sun had gone to sleep, She gathered the glowing earth around his bed, and formed it into a sphere to be placed in the sky." She gestured to the silvery moon peeking through the clouds.

Kali looked at the moon, and frowned. "But where did the humans come from? Or the Qunari, or dwarves?"

"You know, I asked the Keeper the same thing." Ashara tapped a finger against her chin. "Our stories don't tell us much of other races, but the Keeper said that Mythal was a great lover of variety. She told me that perhaps Mythal created various races, for the sheer joy of it."

"So what about the other Creators?" Kali was eager to hear more.

Ashara smiled at her enthusiasm. "The oldest children of Elgar'nan and Mythal are Falon'Din and Dirthamen. They are twin Brothers, and if you speak of One you must speak of the Other, for They cannot bear to be apart, even in thought. They were inseparable from the moment of Their conception, and spent Their time walking the earth, always together. They played with the animals, whispered to the trees, and bathed in the rivers. Their days were spent in bliss, and They knew no pain."

"That's so cute!" Kali was picturing little elven boys constantly playing together, and getting into all sorts of mischief.

Ashara smiled at Kali's expression. "One day, while They were walking through the forest, Falon'Din and Dirthamen came across an old deer resting against a tree. They asked her to play with Them, but the deer said that she could not, for she was old and sickly. She wished to rest, but could not make her legs carry her. Falon'Din took pity on the deer and carried her to her rest beyond the Veil. Dirthamen tried to follow, but the shifting paths of the Beyond would not let Him pass. For the first time in His life He was without His brother, and so He wandered the forest aimlessly."

"But why wouldn't He be able to go?"

"Dirthamen had no power to cross the Veil. He was devastated to be separated from His Brother, and while He wandered He was taunted by two ravens named Fear and Deceit. 'You are lost, and soon You will fade,' Fear said. 'Your Brother has abandoned You; He no longer loves You,' Deceit taunted. But Dirthamen remained faithful to His Brother. 'I am not lost, and Falon'Din has not abandoned Me,' He replied. He mastered the ravens and bade them deliver Him to the Beyond."

Kali tilted her head. "Why would they be able to go there when He couldn't?"

Ashara smiled knowingly. "We take our emotions with us when we cross. Fear and Deceit are common there; they taunt us while we dream, taking advantage of our weakened state. It is why we have nightmares." Kali's eyes widened. "But they were bound to Dirthamen's will, and when He found His Brother They saw that the deer's spirit was free from her pain. The Brothers rejoiced, and Falon'Din vowed that He would remain to carry all of the dead to their place in the Beyond. And Dirthamen stayed with Him, for the Twins cannot bear to be apart."

The moon was slowly crossing the sky, and all of their companions were fast asleep. Their shift was over at this point but neither girl cared. For Kali, it was a chance to learn about the Dalish, to hear some of the history of her ancestors. For Ashara, it was to teach again, what she was meant to do.

"What other Creators are there?" Kali asked.

"Well, there is Andruil and Sylaise. They aren't twins, but the two Sisters are very close. Andruil is the Goddess of the Hunt, and the creator of the _Vir Tanadahl_, The Way of Three Trees."

Kali tilted her head. "What is that?"

Ashara pressed a hand to her heart. "It's the way we Dalish are taught as children to live our lives. First is _Vir Assan_, the Way of the Arrow: fly straight and do not waver. Then is _Vir Bor'assan_, the Way of the Bow: bend but never break. Third is _Vir Adahlen_, the Way of the Forest: together we are stronger than the one." She said the words almost like a chant.

Kali was thoughtful, the words were beautiful, and seemed to speak to all the elves, not just the Dalish. "And you said that hares were sacred to Andruil, right?" She remembered the night Ashara and Tamlen had flown into a panic after Alistair proudly brought the group a couple of dead hares for their evening meal.

Ashara frowned, thinking of the same thing. "Yes. Hares and hawks are sacred to Her." She shook her head; she had prepared a proper offering after that sacrilege, and believed that Andruil was appeased. "Sylaise is Andruil's only Sister, and so the two of Them are close. While Andruil enjoyed running through the forests, Sylaise preferred to sit next to her home-tree, practicing the arts of song and dance."

Ashara lifted her chin, to show Kali the intricate design of swirling vines and leaves tattooed around her neck. "In addition to fire, Sylaise also gave us the knowledge of herbs. This tattoo represents Her, and shows that She is my patron Goddess. From the time I was young I've had a gift with herbs; this is how I show Her thanks."

Kali studied the tattoo. "I didn't know that your tattoos represented the Creators. What about Tamlen's?"

"His is for Andruil, since he is a hunter. Most of them worship Her as their patron Goddess, but some choose June." The tattoos represented so much more than worship to the Creators, but that was for another tale.

"June is another one of the Creators?"

Ashara nodded. "He is the last of Mythal and Elgar'nan's children. When Sylaise gave us fire to keep us from shivering, June taught us how to bend the wood and fashion weapons. He taught us how to cook the flesh of animals to eat, and how to create clothing from their fur. Some of the hunters choose Him as their patron God."

"So He's the last of the Creators?"

Ashara shook her head. "No, the last of the Creators is Ghilan'nain. It is said that She was once one of the Elvhen, and that She was beautiful. Her hair was pure white, and She was as graceful as a gazelle. She always kept to Andruil's way, and Andruil favored Her above any other."

Kali frowned. "How did She become a Creator?"

"One day while out hunting, She came across a hunter that had killed a hawk. As you remember, hawks are sacred to Andruil, and so Ghilan'nain became distraught. She demanded that the hunter give an offering to Andruil, in exchange for taking the life of one of Her creatures. But the hunter refused, and so Ghilan'nain called on the Goddess to punish him."

"Andruil would punish him simply for that?" Kali was confused.

"Of course." Ashara nodded. "We all know which animals are sacred. In honor of the Creators, we never harm them; it is a sign of our love and devotion to Them. But this hunter was being disrespectful; Andruil was rightly angry. She cursed him so that he could never again kill a living creature. He was unable to hunt; his arrows would stray off course, and his prey would escape him. His family and friends mocked him, for what use is a hunter that can't hunt?" Ashara shook her head sadly. "The hunter grew enraged, and swore that he would make Ghilan'nain pay for what She did."

"What did he do?"

"He came upon Her one day while She was hunting with Her sisters, and pretended to be ashamed of his actions. He begged Her to show him the proper way to send up an offering, and so Ghilan'nain was lured away. Once he got Her alone, he blinded her, and bound Her as one would bind a kill. But because he was cursed he couldn't kill Her, so he left Her for dead."

Kali gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Ghilan'nain prayed to the Creators for help. She cried out to Mythal to protect Her, begged Elgar'nan for vengeance, but She prayed the hardest to Andruil. Because Andruil loved Her, She sent Her hares to chew through the ropes binding Her, but Ghilan'nain was still blind, and could not find Her way home. So Andruil turned Her into a beautiful white deer, the first of the halla. She found Her sisters and led them to the man responsible, who was brought to justice." Ashara smiled. "Since that day, the halla have guided the _Elvhenan_ and never led us astray."

Tamlen had told Kali about the beautiful white deer that guide them from place to place. She wished she could see one. But then she frowned as a thought struck her. "But…if Ghilan'nain," she said the name hesitantly, "is the last of the Creators, who is that one you keep mentioning whenever you get annoyed?"

Ashara tilted her head, trying to think. Then, she laughed. "Oh! You mean Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf." She'd been making references to him often, since she was pretty sure that he was responsible for the irony that her life had become. "He's not a Creator; actually he's not even really a god. He's the Trickster, a reminder of why we must always be wary."

"What did he do?"

"Well, first you have to understand that there are technically two sets of gods: the Creators and the Forgotten Ones."

"Who are the Forgotten Ones?"

Ashara shook her head, and her voice became a whisper. "We don't speak Their names. They are the gods of terror and malice, spite and pestilence. While the Creators made Their home in the Beyond, the Forgotten Ones lived in the abyss. Together They are a representation of balance, like everything else in the world. There must be both light and darkness for the world to function." She frowned and tapped her chin. "You know, the Keeper actually once told me that there are rumors of a race of elves that lived underground, and worshipped the Forgotten Ones."

Kali bit her bottom lip. "But if the Forgotten Ones are evil, why would someone worship them?"

Ashara spread her hands. "I have no clue. The Keeper said that while it was highly unlikely, these underground elves were supposed to be our counterpoint, a balance to the elves of Arlathan. But we have no proof of it one way or the other; we don't even know what they would look like." She waved a hand dismissively. "I don't believe they exist; it seems more likely a made up story."

"So what did Fen'Harel do?"

"Well, Fen'Harel could walk freely between the Creators and the Forgotten Ones, and took advantage of this. While the Creators and Forgotten Ones fought an endless war, the Dread Wolf decided to play his hand in the center of things. He told the Forgotten Ones to wait in the abyss, and the Creators to wait in the Beyond. He promised the Creators that he would arrange a truce, but he told the Forgotten Ones that he would arrange the defeat of our gods. But They were all betrayed. Once They were in Their homes, Fen'Harel sealed Them away, and to this day They are trapped, unable to hear Their children."

Kali's eyes were huge. "That's horrible! Why would he do such a thing?"

Ashara smiled, remembering asking the Keeper that exact same question. "Fen'Harel is chaos. Does chaos need a reason for what it does? But one day the Creators will free Themselves, and all will be well." She noticed for the first time that the moon had crossed the sky. "But we've talked long enough; we should probably get some sleep before the day starts."

Kali nodded. "I'll wake Leliana for her shift with Alistair." Ashara started to walk to the tent she shared with Tamlen, but Kali stopped her. "Um, thank you for telling me all that." It was fascinating to hear of the Creators. Kali might have been raised with the Maker, but her ancestors must have lived in Arlathan, and they would have worshipped these same gods.

"Don't thank me; these are your gods too, whether you call to Them or not." With a smile, Ashara disappeared into her tent.

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><p><strong><em>Translations:<em>**  
><em>da'len - little child<em>  
><em>shemlen - humans<em>  
><em>Elvhen - term for the elves<em>  
><em>Elvhenan - technically the society of Arlathan, but the Dalish use it as a term for themselves, in reference to them being the only 'true elves'<em>

_I do feel the need to give thanks to Sharem, who was really the inspiration of me putting all of my random ideas in a separate story. You should read her story Mages and Templars and Wardens Oh My! It's pretty damn funny._

_Obviously I veered off a little from the actual myths of the Creators, and added in a little bit of my own. But, I liked it better this way. I've worked really hard to fill in the gaps of the Dalish history that Bioware leaves out, so I have a lot of fun writing stuff like this ;D_

_If you have an idea for a prompt, I'd love to hear from you! PM me and let me know if you have any ideas for one._

_Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! :D_

_~Seika_


	2. Chapter 2

_Please forgive any mistakes, b/c I don't have a beta for this._

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><p><em><strong>Prompt<strong>: __Fairy Tales in Ferelden; set waaay down the line, during the third part of my story. Its hard to come up with a timeline so far in advance, but this is roughly twelve years after the Blight has been defeated. Anywho, this chapter is in response to a Cheeky Monkey Challenge_

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><p><strong>Ripples in the Water<br>**

"_Mamae_, can you tell me the story of Masena?"

"Where did you hear about her?"

"The Keeper told me to ask you."

"She did, did she? Well, the story of Masena **is** a good lesson for all _da'len_ to learn."

"So I can hear it?"

"Of course, _da'vhenan_."

oOo

Long ago, when the _Elvhenan _still lived in the Dales, there was a handsome young hunter by the name of Rhysan. His skill with the _bor'assan_ was unrivaled, and he was known throughout the Dales for his many virtues, and for his devotion to the Creators. He kept to the old ways as much as possible, and listened to the _hahren_ tell their stories. He was kind to the _da'len_, and gracious to his kin.

One day Rhysan was out hunting with his brother hunters. After chasing a stag deep into the forest, he turned from his kill to discover that he had been separated from his brothers. He looked around, and realized that he was not familiar with that part of the forest. He was lost. He tried to find his way home, but somehow found himself even deeper amongst the trees. Yet still he pressed forward with his kill, determined to bring food to his family. His feet ached, his arms grew tired, but he continued to search for the way out, until the moon had risen high into the sky. Only then did he begin to worry; if he could not find shelter he would be easy prey for any manner of creatures lurking in the night.

He prayed to Andruil, asking for Her guidance from from the forest, and when She did not respond he reluctantly decided to leave his kill where it was, lest he attract wolves. He thought to find shelter, to wait out the night and begin his journey fresh in the morning, but something urged him to continue forward. He paid heed to that inner voice, and though he longed for food and drink, or at least a place to sleep, he forced himself to keep walking. Soon he heard the splashing of water, and his heart soared. His throat was dry, and so eager was he for a drink that he found the strength to climb over fallen trees, and push aside the brush until he found the source.

But when he approached the lake, he hesitated at the image before him.

A shadow floated in the water; at first he thought that it must be a great fish, or perhaps a large clump of weeds beneath the water. But then the shadow slowly rose, and when it broke the surface he saw that it was a bathing woman, shockingly naked. Her skin was more pale than the silvery moon reflected upon the rippling water, and her wet hair was as dark as ink, clinging to the swell of the breasts and trailing down her back.

He felt that he knew the woman as he had known no other, though he had never before laid eyes upon her. Her name whispered through his mind as if Mythal Herself spoke it, Masena, and the woman rose out of the water. He saw that she was a beautiful elf to her slim waist, but below she was scaled, like a fish, with a long tail that floated gracefully in the water.

Rhysan no longer cared if he found a path from the forest then; he wished only to be with her. She laughed, a joyous sound that warmed his heart as surely as if he sat by a comforting fire. She swam towards him, and smiled so beautifully that it filled him with longing. Only one look passed between the two, but it was more intimate than the sweetest of whispers.

She promised to be his wife, and make him happy as any woman could. She promised that she would tame her wild side, the part of her that danced beneath the waves and bathed in the moonlight; she would be a wife he could be proud of. All she asked in return was that he give her time, once a month, when she could return to her the water, her element, and be her true self. To wash away the daily struggle of a mortal woman's life. She knew that being a woman was rough on the body, hard on the heart. She knew that she would need time alone, to dip her body beneath the cool embrace of the water, and splash her tail against the waves.

He swore that he would give her everything, anything she could ever want. He vowed to be a good husband, to love and cherish her for eternity. So she came from the water, long legs in place of her tail, and took his hand in her own.

They were married in a beautiful ceremony that all of the _Elvhenan_ attended, and settled into their new home. Masena was adored by all of her new family, and welcomed into their homes as if she were their own. As the moon shines tendrils of gentle silver upon a silent lake, so to did she shine her light upon all strangers to her home, gently receiving them with such grace that many flocked to her door. Each day Rhysan kept his promise, and loved Masena for all that she was. And in turn, she was a loving wife to him.

But once a month, for one night only, she locked herself away in her bathing room, and lowered herself into the bath, to become her true self again, to enjoy the silence and the water. The two passed many years in great happiness, for Rhysan understood that Masena needed one night to breathe quietly, away from a mortal's life. They had children together, who grew in skill and beauty, and each day Rhysan gave thanks for the beautiful woman that was his wife.

Their lives passed in peaceful bliss for years, but then Rhysan began to grow curious about his wife. He did not understand her, and started to grow frustrated with a wife that perplexed him. One day a traveling merchant was staying in their home, and Rhysan conveyed his frustration to the stranger. The merchant claimed that if he desired to learn Masena's secret, he had only to spy on her, and it would be a secret no longer.

Rhysan thought this a fine idea, so when Masena locked herself in the bathing room, he hid amongst the curtains to watch her. When he saw the scales of her tail gleaming in the moonlight, he saw her secret and grew horrified. Like countless men before him, he had forgotten her true nature, and was frightened to see what she truly was.

So Rhysan left her. In his heart he claimed that she had deceived him, that he thought she simply needed a quiet night alone. He could not stand to think that she still kept part of herself secret from him, a secret that he didn't understand. Though he loved her, deeply loved her, like many men, he gave in to his fears and allowed his anger to pull him away from the sweet and beautiful woman who was his wife.

Poor Masena. She, who tried so hard to be a good wife, was forced to leave him and go back to the water. Like many women, she couldn't fit into her husband's view of what she should be. So she took her daughters, leaving her sons with their father. The boys grew to manhood, becoming the wisest of the _Elvhenan_, and those who fought against the _shemlen_. The girls inherited their mother's gifts, and understood the flow of the world.

Masena went back to the water, but in her heart she never stopped missing her husband. And at the hour of his death he heard her song, calling to him from beneath the ripples of her element. She sang for her beloved, easing his passage to the Beyond, where they could meet again, and his spirit could flow through her waters for eternity. He knew at that moment that it does not matter what a woman is, or even what a man is. If their love is strong enough then nothing, not even death, can come between them.

oOo

Anyu's eyes grew heavy, and she settled under the covers. Ashara smiled down at her daughter and stroked the girl's hair tenderly. "Always remember that, _da'len_. We may make mistakes, and even give in to our fears at times, but if two hearts are strong enough, there is nothing that can tear them apart."

"I will, _Mamae_."

Soon she was asleep, and Ashara stood up to see Tamlen leaning against the doorway. Wordlessly he held his arms out to her, and she slowly eased into his embrace, closing her eyes at the warmth of his body. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and lowered his mouth to her ear. "Man or woman, death or life, nothing will ever tear us apart either."

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><p><em>Translations:<br>Mamae - mother  
>da'len - little child<br>da'vhenan - little heart  
>Elvhenan - technically the society of the elves of Arlathan, but used to describe the Dalish. In this case, Ashara is referring to the elves that were living in the Dales (bc some of them went back to Tevinter)  
>bor'assan - bow<br>hahren - elders  
>Andruil - Goddess of the Hunt<br>Mythal - Goddess of Protection; Mother of the Creators_

_Many people might not recognize it as a fairy tale, but it's the story of Melusina, the mermaid who fell in love with a man. Though I will admit that I was heavily influenced by Philppa Gregory's version of it, which (from what I've read) is a much more romanticized telling of the Luxembourg version. In the Luxembourg version that I read, Melusina tells Siegfried (the husband) to never look on her while she bathes. When he does, and sees what she is, she leaves him for breaking his vow, jumping out of the window into the Alzette River. In that version she's never seen again, though of course they say that there are times where people have seen a beautiful girl peeking her head from the river, before disappearing again. ;]  
><em>

_Anywho, when I read Philippa Gregory's version I thought it was such a sweet tale, and I wanted to try to portray that in a Fereldan way. Well, a Dalish way, I guess. Obviously I changed the names, and I set the story during the time of the Dales, b/c when the elves lived in Arlathan they didn't die. I hope you enjoyed it :D_

_~Seika_


	3. Chapter 3

_This little snippet is for Shakespira, who has been a huge help to my writing, and has offered so much encouragement. I told her that I wanted to write a little piece to thank her, and she said she'd like to see something that pokes fun at Wynne. If you haven't read Shakespira's story, With Noble Intent, I really encourage you to do so. Joss is a hilarious character who pretty much stumbles through the Blight, while managing to snag one of the most desirable men in Thedas ;]_

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><p><strong>Lesson Learned<strong>

"Maker! How does he manage to tear every single _one_ of his tunics?" Kali exclaimed to herself, surveying the pile of clothing in front of her. Drake was curled up next to her; at the sound of her exasperated voice, he twitched an ear, but clearly he didn't care about Zevran's torn clothing. He shifted his head, and went back to sleep.

Kali shook her head in dismay. When she had offered to mend the assassin's torn clothing, she had no _idea_ that he would happily hand over almost every single article of clothing that he owned. _Well, I _**_did_**_ offer to help._ With a sigh of defeat, she set to work. The clothing wasn't going to mend itself, after all.

It was a cool and calm afternoon, and the group had decided to set up camp early. The baby was weighing heavily on Ashara, and Tamlen, being the overprotective soon-to-be father that he was, hopped from foot to foot and pleaded with her to take a break. Laughing at his anxious behavior, Ashara had agreed.

Everyone else was pleased to take a short break. With the exception of the two Dalish, everyone had gotten used to the comfortable beds and chairs at Redcliffe castle; no one was eager to be sleeping on the hard ground and walking long distances. Kali could see Kira sitting next to her tent, giggling about something while a flustered Alistair blushed furiously, and Ashara was knelt next to the fire, warming some water for her tea. Tamlen and Zevran were in the small clearing next to the camp, training with their bows.

Kali smiled at the thought of Zevran. Ever since that night at Redcliffe Castle, when the assassin had kissed her, she found herself grinning almost every time she thought of him. He had done it more than once, and each time was better than the last. He was constantly hinting that the two of them could do _more_ than just kiss, but it was always in a teasing manner. Zevran was well aware of Kali's nervousness at such an idea, and had claimed that he would be willing to wait as long as necessary. She was grateful for that.

"Excuse me, dear, but would you mind if I joined you?"

She looked up to see the elderly mage, Wynne, smiling down at her. Kali thought that perhaps she wanted to help her mend some of Zevran's clothes; Wynne seemed to enjoy sewing almost as much as she did. "Not at all."

Wynne settled herself next to Kali, and looked at the large pile of fabric in front of the little rogue. "My, you certainly _do _have your work cut out for you."

Kali grinned. "I know. But Zevran needs his clothes mended, and I don't mind."

The mage looked hesitant. "Yes...that is what I wished to talk to you about."

"Mending clothes?"

Wynne shook her head, as if disappointed that she was forced to spell it out. "No, it is about your relationship with Zevran."

"Oh." Kali pulled the needle through the fabric, but then Wynne's words actually sank in, and she almost dropped the clothing. "Oh!" Heat started to creep up her face. "Um..."

Wynne settled herself down, as if preparing for a long discussion. Kali recognized the gesture; _Hahren_ Valendrian got the exact same look, whenever he was about to lecture someone. The little rogue felt her heart plummet; she could tell this wasn't going to be a fun discussion. "I've noticed your blossoming relationship, and I wanted to ask if you knew what you were getting yourself into."

_We're not really having this talk, are we?_ Kali frantically looked around the camp, searching for someone who could get her out of this mess. Ashara was making her tea, and wasn't paying attention; everyone else was busy. There was no one who could help her. Great. She was stuck. "Um, I...I know...what I'm doing..."

Wynne didn't seem to hear Kali's words. Or else she didn't care. "You know Kali, sex is a big step in _any_ relationship."

_Oh Maker, please let her stop._ Kali felt like her ears were going to burst into flames, but Wynne just kept talking. "I've seen how Zevran behaves, and it seems that he's only interested in one thing. I don't want you to get your heart broken by a man who only sees you as another conquest."

Kali was desperately trying to get Ashara's attention. _Please, just look over here! _Ashara could her out of this mess in an instant! But the Dalish woman wasn't even looking around. Kali watched, devastated, while Ashara took her cup of tea and walked towards the tents, without so much as glancing in Kali's direction.

There was no hope; she was going to have to answer Wynne, and somehow try to deal with this extremely embarrassing conversation. "Zevran doesn't see me as just another conquest," she mumbled quietly.

Wynne shook her head. "Tell me Kali, how much do you know about sex?"

_Oh Maker, save me from this. I'll give You anything You want!_ "Um...I mean...I know a bit...well...I know what a man does...and...um...well, Zevran and I are...I mean, he said that he...well, he doesn't want to push me."

Wynne scoffed in disbelief. "I'm sure you know, that Zevran is the type who only lives for bodily pleasure. If he tells you anything different, you would be wise to not trust it." She lifted her chin indignantly. "You know, I think it's shameful, how some people can't seem to think about anything other than sex."

"Lady Talia gasped, confronted by Garren's powerful manhood. In that moment, she knew she was lost; she could resist no longer."

Kali and Wynne twisted around to see Ashara standing behind them, with a small book open in her hands. The Dalish woman raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what this book is? It's called 'The Rose of Orlais', and I found it in _your_ tent, Wynne." Her violet eyes widened innocently. "I _thought_ it would be an interesting book about Orlais, but it seems to be about romance. I must admit, I was quite shocked by some of the scandalous passages." She looked down at the elderly mage, and her lips parted into a mischievous smile. "I can read them aloud, if you like."

Wynne's face was practically scarlet. "Oh, no thank you." She got to feet and fumbled with trying to adjust her robe. "Well, Kali, I'm glad we had this talk. Oh, I think I hear Kira calling for me. Excuse me."

She quickly rushed off, and Kali breathed a giant sigh of relief. Ashara tossed the little rogue a wink, and silently walked off to her tent.


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter is for Ventisquear. She's been an amazing support and inspiration, and I wanted to write her a one-shot to show her thanks. She said she'd like to see one of the many times where Zevran tries to flirt with Kali, where it just goes right over her head. I tried to comply, but before I knew it, this chapter had managed to write itself. Kali wanted to make sure that people realized she's not _always_ as oblivious as she seems.  
>Anywho, I really encourage you to check out Vent's story, Failed to Fail. Air is such an adorable little spit-fire, and he's worked up quite a fan base. Poor Zevran is constantly having to keep fangirls off his crazy kid.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Way Over her Head<strong>

"You _actually_ think you can do it!"

"I assure you, my friend, that no woman can resist the charms of Zevran Arainai, one of the Crows most famous assassins."

"Tch, I don't care _who_ you are; I won't believe it until I see it. That girl is even more oblivious than the Chantry boy is."

"What are you two doing?"

Tamlen and Zevran twisted around, like naughty boys caught doing something wrong, to see Ashara watching them, hands on her hips, her dark violet eyes narrowed suspiciously. Immediately, the two men launched into protests of innocence. They weren't doing anything at all! Just talking about the weather! Yes, the weather!

Ashara raised an eyebrow. "You don't _actually_ expect me to believe either of you, do you?" She looked at Tamlen, who squirmed beneath her gaze. "Tamlen?"

The Dalish man knew he had to tell the truth. "Look, Zevran says that with his skill, he can charm almost any girl into blushing and giggling." There was laughter at the back of his throat. "I said that no matter how hard he tried, he could never get Kali to even _notice_ his flirtation attempts."

The assassin pretended to be hurt. "You wound me with your lack of faith, Tamlen. There is _no one_ who can resist the charms of the ridiculously awesome Zevran."

Despite herself, Ashara was grinning. "You've tried flirting with Kali before, and so far she hasn't noticed. What makes you think you can do it now?"

"Ah, but I have never brought out the full charm."

"Alright, what did you bet?"

"The loser has to clean the dishes for two weeks!" Tamlen said eagerly, hoping that Ashara would join them.

The Dalish woman's smile widened. "I say go for it. I have to see this for myself."

Zevran shook his head sadly. "So _you_ do not believe in me either, Ashara? Such faithless friends you both are!"

Tamlen grinned. "Just go try it. I don't think she's even going to _notice_."

oOo

Kali stood behind the cluster of tents, stretching out the muscles in her arms. Ashara had finally taken that annoying sling off of her shoulder, and the little rogue was eager to resume her training. Zevran had started to show her how to blend into the shadows, and she was slowly getting the hang of it. With enough training, she wouldn't be a liability in any of their fights; she'd be able to hold her own ground, and Ashara wouldn't have to keep a watch on her.

She heard light footsteps in the grass, and smiled when she saw Zevran approaching her. The assassin beamed widely. "Ah, my lovely little Warden! How pleased I am to-"

"Zevran!" Kali said happily. "I've been practicing the stealth movements that you showed me. Do you want to see?"

The assassin was momentarily caught off guard. "Oh, of course." He managed to compose himself quickly enough, and watched as Kali fluttered over to the dark shadows cast by the trees. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drawing more of the shadows around her. He had taught her that an assassin could gather shadows around them, to hide from view, and sneak up on their enemies.

Kali wasn't able to hold the shadows to her for a long time, and soon she had dropped the illusion. She pranced back over to him. "It takes a lot of energy if I do it for too long, but I'm getting better!"

He smiled and lowered his voice, trying to sound intimate. "You are learning very quickly."

She beamed happily, not paying the slightest bit of attention to his tone of voice. "I've been practicing like you said. No matter where we are, I _always_ make sure to know exactly where all the shadows are, in case I should need them."

Zevran nodded, trying to look pleased. Clearly, he was going to have to steer the conversation back to a point where he could suitably flirt with her. "I am impressed. Did you know, in Antiva, women are not allowed to fight?"

His comment worked like a charm; the little rogue was immediately interested. She loved hearing about the customs of different lands. "Really? Why is that?"

"Ah, it is believed that women are far too delicate and pure; they must remain unsullied by fighting and death."

Kali seemed to find the comment funny. "Don't let Ashara or Morrigan hear you say something like that. Don't you remember how mad they got when Sten said that women can't fight? I thought they were going to set the whole camp on fire!"

That wasn't exactly the opening that he was looking for. He had been hoping that she'd ask about Antivan women, which would have given him the perfect chance to flex his flirtatious muscles. _Ah well, I suppose I shall just have to dive in._ "Sadly, I used to believe that it was true, myself. That is, until I met one such as you. I had no idea that such loveliness-"

"Oh!" Once again, Kali was barely paying attention. She slipped her daggers into the straps around her legs, and clapped her hands together. "Bodahn said that he got some targets that we can use for practice. I've been wanting to try those throwing daggers that you found. Would you like to practice with me?"

Zevran was practically gaping at her. _No one can be _**_this_**_ oblivious! She must be toying with me, playing hard to get. Time to use extreme measures._ He shook himself, and raised his eyes to leer at her seductively. He _knew_ the look would work; he had used it many times, and it _always_ succeeded in charming women out of their clothes. "If it means that I get to spend more time with you, then I would certainly enjoy it." He took care to throw as much meaning into the words as he could.

But Kali just continued to smile at him pleasantly. Her beautiful green eyes were widened innocently, there was no trace of any sort of realization on her face. "Wonderful! I'll go get the targets!"

She pranced off towards Bodahn's cart, leaving Zevran staring after her like an idiot. He heard loud, obnoxious laughter, and twisted around to see Ashara and Tamlen clinging to each other by their tent, laughing so hard that tears poured down their eyes.

He walked over to them, and shrugged helplessly. "You were not mistaken, my friends. She is _far_ more oblivious than I thought."

Tamlen finally managed to catch his breath. "So, you'll be scrubbing the dishes for two weeks, then? You might want to get started!"

oOo

Later that night, Ashara and Kali sat near the fire. It was their turn for the watch, and both women had trouble keeping straight faces.

"So, it worked?"

"You did wonderful, _lethallan_! He had _no_ idea!"

Kali covered her face to smother her giggles. "And I don't have to scrub the dishes this week?"

Ashara grinned. "Nope! Zevran is going to do them for two weeks, so neither do I!"

"You have to catch them making _more_ bets! Maybe we can get them to _both_ lose next time; I don't want to do the cooking either!"

"I'm sure we can."


End file.
